


promise

by brattybat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polyamory, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brattybat/pseuds/brattybat
Summary: Noctis was never good at talking about his feelings, and maybe he doesn't quite realize that until it becomes a dangerous problem.In other words, Noctis has anxiety that ends up causing him to physically get sick.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY FIRST FFXV FIC AND WOW ITS ANGST IM SORRY please leave feedback if u can....they might have been totally ooc im tired and emo

It’s not like they thought going for a chocobo ride in the middle of a rain storm was a good idea - had they known the weather would take such a sharp turn, they would have stayed at their current campsite. But now, the four of them were trekking back the way they came. So much for a scenic trip. The one time they decide to just do something for fun, the weather had to up and ruin it. Maybe it was a sign that they just weren’t meant to relax at a time like this.

 

“Man, I’m freezing! This sucks, there were totally no reports about heavy rain today at all,” A voice whined over a sodden silence, “Stupid weather people.”

 

“Sometimes, you simply cannot predict weather changes, weather reporter or otherwise. We can’t do anything now but just continue back to camp and change into some warm clothes.” Ignis responded to Prompto - it certainly wasn’t his first complaint since the downpour, and Ignis had a feeling it surely wouldn’t be the last.

 

On the other hand, Noctis didn’t seem to be heard from for a while despite usually being Prompto’s partner in crime when it came to complaining. He was staring very intently at the wet feathers of his chocobo’s neck, listening close to each sloshing step the bird took in the moist soil, focusing on how uncomfortably his shirt clung to his back, the stinging drops of rain that rolled down the side of his face - it wasn’t obvious to anyone that glanced back at him, but this was a very firm tactic he started to practice when he felt his anxiety start creeping up inside him. Gladio asked some time ago if he was alright, he said yeah, gave him a little smile even.

 

But right now, without the music always playing in the Regalia, without the constant chatter of Prompto, warm wind blowing through his hair, all Noctis could seem to think of was everything he had been trying so hard not to think of. King Regis is dead, murdered, betrayed. Insomnia is as good as taken over, everything is suddenly on his shoulders. And it all happened before Noctis could realize it. All he could do at first was deny, deny, deny. It’s all lies, this is some sort of stupid joke, it couldn’t be true. But, after meeting up with the Marshall, after gaining the first royal sword, Noctis started to wake up to the reality around him - the reality that all depended on him. And he hadn’t said a word about it to the others since it set in, but ever since that slap in the face, Noctis had been overthinking everything for days now. He wanted to be strong, to overcome the loss, to fight back as the heir to his throne, show Niflheim what happens when they mess with his kingdom - but he just couldn’t bring that confidence out anymore. It felt as if he had just suddenly shut down. And the freezing rain at his back made it all the more real.

 

 _It’s okay, this will pass,_ Noctis began to chant to himself when he felt his pulse spike, brows furrowed as he held weak at the reins, _I have them with me, I’ll be okay_. His breathing came out clogged and strained. And all of a sudden, Prompto was saying something, but he couldn’t hear.

 

“Yeah, I _know_ , but-” Prompto was cut off by a loud, warning squawk of a chocobo that was tailing behind a good distance, then stopping still completely. Soon enough, the other three halted as Noctis’ chocobo strained its neck to begin nudging at his shoulder with a large beak, squawking in rapid succession.

 

“Noct?” A collective stream of voices called his name in a sudden worry, and Ignis was the first to hop off his bird and stride quick toward the concerning sight.

 

Once he got to him, Ignis’ eyes went wide, staring at Noctis, very haphazardly straddling the animal, shoulders tense and cowered forward. His head was hanging and he was shuddering much too heavily for the temperature around them. “Noctis? Noctis, what’s wrong?” The moment Ignis touched one of those trembling shoulders, the prince swayed and the other had to quickly catch him before he toppled to the ground.

 

By now, the other two were making their way over as well, still on their birds, worry plastered on their faces. “Is he alright?” Called Gladiolus, waiting for Ignis to gauge the prince’s wellbeing.

 

A hand was pressed to Noctis’ forehead, pushing soaked bangs out of the way. Ignis frowned deeply, “He’s burning up.” He noted loud enough for Prompto and Gladio to hear over the rain, supporting the slightly smaller body with one arm. The poor bird was trying its hardest to keep looking behind itself at Noctis, in a panicked fret. But regardless of Ignis’ words, Noctis seemed unresponsive to everything around him.

 

Prompto could barely see the other’s face through his long, wet bangs and his hunched posture, but he could tell something was very wrong and it scared him.

 

“Is he sick? Should we-” And for the second time, he was cut off.

 

In seconds, Noctis was a frantic mess, pushing Ignis away from him as he slumped off his saddle and staggered to his left, barely making it a few feet away before he doubled over and began to violently dry heave. His chest and stomach caved in, harsh and jerking as he kept going through the motions, though not much made it out other than drool and stomach acid. Throughout the sudden outburst, he was coughing, choking on nothing, straining for air. And with absolute fear and confusion, the three men could only stare, shocked into stillness.

 

“Shit,” Gladiolus cursed heavily, “ _Shit_ ,” He hopped off his bird, past Ignis to drape a large arm over the prince’s shuddering shoulders, beginning to rub circles into his back, waiting for him to finish, “It’s okay, breathe, just _breathe_ , man.. Dammit,” His jaw was tight, trying to figure out what had caused this sudden onslaught. Ignis was close behind, and Prompto could do nothing but stay back out of fear, worrying at his bottom lip and whining to himself, one hand gripping tight at his reins.

 

Finally, Noctis went silent, and the fervent look in his eyes vanished. He didn’t - or couldn’t - bother to try and voice an explanation. When he attempted to stand straight, his vision distorted and he gave a hoarse groan. He didn’t realize he was about to fall until Gladiolus caught him in a heap, now holding the other in his arms.

 

“I got ya,” Glad murmured, frown deep, “I got ya, it’s gonna be okay.” He exhaled, eyeing the way Noctis appeared completely unfocused and dazed. This was so bad.

 

“We need to get him back to camp,  _now_.” The bodyguard commanded, voice firm.

 

“He can’t ride his chocobo on his own,” Ignis noted, stepping close and brushing Noctis’ hair away from his face again before giving his pale cheek a careful caress. “He would have to ride with one of us. Prompto, you’re the smallest out of us, it will be less straining on your chocobo if he rode the rest of the way with you.” He then spoke up to the blond, who had been silent the entire time. With a nod of his head, Gladio headed toward him, the prince’s limp body in tow.

 

With a hard swallow, Prompto managed a nod, shifting on his saddle to make room in front of him as best he could. Reaching his arms out, he helped Gladiolus hoist Noctis up onto the bird. Carefully, Prompto wrapped his arms around his torso, the reins coiled between his fingers. The moment Gladiolus let go, Noctis’ head went slack and fell back against Prompto’s shoulder.

 

“Come on, let’s hurry back, we’re almost there.” Ignis spoke again once all of them mounted, tying the reins of Noctis’ chocobo to his own before they all started off at a quick pace.

 

Thankfully, the rain was starting to let up.

  
As they road, Prompto kept holding onto the weak man, his eyes focused more on him than the path ahead. He looked so fragile, so _defeated_. His breathing came out in shallow, scratchy huffs through his open mouth, expression slack and exhausted. God, Prompto felt awful for him. He raised a hand and began to stroke his cheek like Ignis had done, sighing, “I’m sorry..” He whispered to the probably unconscious prince, “I’m sorry we didn’t notice earlier.. I’m sorry,” He kept apologizing, leaning in to press his lips to Noctis’ temple, closing his eyes for a brief moment, pained and concentrating on trying to convey his regret somehow.


	2. Chapter 2

They all managed to make it to camp before sundown, and the moment they arrived, everyone started moving in a hurry. Ignis began to gather ingredients to make hot soup, Gladiolus fumbled in the tent to grab dry clothes and get his blankets and pillows set up. When directed, Prompto then hopped off the large bird, struggling slightly, but helping Noctis’ deadweight off with him and half dragging, half carrying him to the open tent. For a while, none of them spoke and instead just kept moving, kept trying to help.

 

While Prompto and Gladio had some difficulty peeling the clothes off Noctis and replacing them, Ignis stoked a fresh fire near the open tent, letting its warmth gradually seep inside.

 

“The soup is ready, do you think you could try and wake him?” Ignis spoke up, a steaming bowl in his hand as he knelt down inside the tent, “I hate to do it, but he needs something in his stomach after that.”

 

By that point, Prompto couldn’t stand watching that sweating, trembling body anymore. “ _No_! What if he’s sick because of some food poisoning? What if some mushroom or fish or something is diseased? Don’t feed him more if that’s what made him sick! We should get him to the nearest rest stop! What- What if it’s something really bad, he might need to go to a hospital! We can’t just sit here and hope he gets better!”

 

“ _Prompto_ ,” Gladiolus’ voice was harsh, grabbing the freckled boy’s arm before he got too out of control, “Stop it, we ate everything he did and we’re fine. He doesn’t have food poisoning and I don’t think he needs a hospital, so stop stressing yourself out. It could just be a little stomach bug, everyone gets sick sometimes, believe it or not.”

 

“Even if he doesn’t need a hospital, he’s still _sick_ , and he needs proper medicine! All we have are potions for surface wounds and poison, we don’t have flu medicine.”

 

“I personally think we should just wait it out and see. If he gets any worse than this, I will volunteer to get the Regalia from Hammerhead and drive him to the nearest hospital-”

 

“I told you, _he doesn’t need a hospital!_ ”

 

Noctis slowly began to hear a rush of yelling voices before he drearily opened up his eyes. Blinking once, twice, a few more times until the figures settled around him finally came into focus, he had difficulty registering the situation. When he tried to move, he starkly realized he was all but constrained within tightly wrapped up blankets, like a swaddled infant. Beads of sweat trickled down his temple and even after his hair had been dried, he could still feel his bangs clinging to his face. It took him a long time to realize what his partners were talking about.

 

“Could I get a little help out of this blanket prison?” He croaked, attempting to get their attention through the argument.

 

All heads snapped in Noctis’ direction, mouths suddenly agape and silent.

 

“N-Noctis, are you okay?” Prompto was the first to speak, pouting and hovering over him, completely forgetting his initial request, hands cupping his hot cheeks, “We were all so worried, how are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Do you want to go to the doctor?”

 

Soon, before Noctis could muster a plausible answer, Prompto was pushed away by Gladiolus. “Stop it, you idiot, give him room to breathe. And how many times do I need to tell you, he doesn’t need a doctor.”

Just as Prompto and Ignis both opened their mouths, Noctis began to shrug out of the blankets and somewhat sit himself up, “Guys, enough. I’m fine, I just-” He exhaled, thinking back to what exactly had happened. It was hazy, and he couldn’t recall much other than cold rain and Prompto’s complaining, and-

 

“Noctis,” Ignis was suddenly frantic, grabbing his shoulder.

 

The prince didn’t realize when his breathing started to turn into a similar set of shallow pants until he felt the warm hand squeeze him. _Oh_. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back. “I’m sorry,” Noctis admitted, glancing to the side, “I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

 

More sighs were breathed out in the tent before Ignis spoke again, “Noctis, what happened? Can you tell us? Do you have any idea what caused you to get sick so suddenly? We need to know how to help you.” His voice was soft, weary and earnest. It matched Prompto and Gladio’s expressions. Noctis bit his lip.

 

Where the hell was he supposed to start? And _how_ ? _‘Sorry guys, I just got so worried about the future and I’m sad that my father was fucking murdered and I couldn’t do anything about it, so I threw up and passed out.’_ Noctis was never good with words.

 

“I’m,” Noctis started, voice shuddering, “I’m _scared_.”

 

The three sitting around him were silent, waiting for him to continue, and Noctis felt his chest constrict.

 

“I-I’m fucking scared, guys, I’m so scared,” He was suddenly blabbering, his tone hushed, “I have no idea how I’m going to do this, I have no idea how to be a king to an entire kingdom that isn’t even mine anymore. Everyone - _everyone_ is looking up to me, expecting me to fix everything that Niflheim ruined. I get that I was chosen, or whatever, when I was a kid… To be this savior. But, my father died - was _killed_ \- before I could even begin to feel ready for all of this. And- And,” Noctis was staring hard at the scruffy material of the sleeping bag, hot tears burning in his eyes.

 

“I can’t,” The prince finally sobbed out, “I can’t do it, I can’t let you guys down, I can’t- I’m- Going to fuck everything up somehow,” He was feeling that same vibration inside him, the pounding of his pulse in his ears, draining everything else out other than this painful need to just - _flee_. To run away, to hide, to cower, to scream, to give up, to die. And all too soon it was happening again, his vision started to betray him, to give out, to distort.

 

As Noctis spoke so brokenly, the three could not have felt any further heartbroken than they did at that moment. Seeing the prince, _their_ prince, break down like that seemed like easily the most painful thing they all could have ever witnessed.

But before Noctis could hurt himself anymore than he already had, a pair of arms were strewn around him, and a wet face was shoved into the side of his neck. For the moment, his attention was caught.

 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Prompto wailed, so easily reactant to anyone else’s emotions, “Noctis, stop, stop, please,” He sniffled against warm skin, shaking his head, “You will never let us down, never, never ever,” He spoke, childish against him, “I promise, please, I can’t see you cry like that.”

 

Noctis would have liked to respond, but he could not even fathom the effort or thought process to give Prompto something coherent.

 

Ignis and Gladiolus were closer than before, too, though not clinging to Noctis for dear life like Prompto. All eyes were squinting with a deep sorrow. It was evident, the question behind the look that the two of them had exchanged - _how long had his insecurities gone unnoticed?_ To even think they had ignored his dwindling mental state was too much to bear for any of them.

 

“Noctis,” The advisor uttered, “I cannot even begin to understand how much pressure you are under. But I can speak for all of us when I say no matter what happens, we all _love_ you and will stay at your side until we take our last breath. I _swear_ to you. There is nothing you could do that will let us down. No matter what path you take, what decision you make, we will support you with everything we have.” Ignis finished, reaching to take one of Noctis’ hands, squeezing it tight, assuring him that his words came straight from his heart. “Do you understand?”

 

Hearing those words, every calm breath Ignis took, the way he sounded so sure, Noctis knew deep inside himself that he meant every syllable. He nodded, whispering a very small ‘yes’.

 

“Iggy’s right,” Prompto whimpered, littering the prince’s neck with gentle kisses, practically laying on top of him, “We love you so much, Noct.” He agreed, still keeping his face hidden, eyelashes wet, calming from his little fit of cries.

 

Gladiolus then scooted to sit next to Noctis, draping an arm across both him and Ignis, the other snaking around Prompto’s waist. “From now on, promise you will tell us whenever you’re feeling like that. Even if it’s the smallest thought, the faintest worry - promise that you will let us know. We want to help you, Noctis. That’s why we’re here. You can’t just hold everything in like that, because this is what happens. Noctis, _man_ , you literally made yourself sick. Do you realize that? That shit isn’t cool. You _gotta_ talk to us next time.” He then released his hand from Ignis’ shoulder to rake his fingers through the younger one’s dark hair.

 

Noctis, albeit slowly, let everything sink in. He stared between them, the warm soup that was still balanced in Ignis’ free hand, the other that was entwined with one of his own, the way Prompto kept kissing his neck and jaw, nuzzling against him, and the comforting size and strength of Gladiolus keeping them all close together. Their words were held deep inside him, and stayed there to be remembered. A small part of him didn’t want to believe them, but Noctis could see it in the way Ignis watched him, and the flicker of the fire just outside the tent, and the little whispers of affection at his neck, and the warm fingers through his hair - all the love that they were giving him, that they always had given him. He knew he had nothing to fear, wrapped up in the comfort of the ones he had given all of his heart to. He had nothing to fear.

 

And with a soft smile, Noctis allowed his eyes to flutter shut. “I promise.”


End file.
